


A Wolf In Human's Clothing

by CrackDragon42



Category: Dexter (TV), Dexter Series - Jeff Lindsay
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 17:18:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrackDragon42/pseuds/CrackDragon42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a new killer arrives in Miami and starts mauling people, Miami Metro branches out across the water for help from the UK. Dexter gets a surprise when the Detectives they send over to lend a hand are like him, or is he like them? Join Dexter as he discovers what his 'Dark Passenger' actually is, finds others who accept him for who he is, and perhaps gets another shot at love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on the Showtime programme, although it's written in Dexter's point of view, just like the books - because honestly, the books are amazing.

Even though there were deaths, there were losses, there were neat catches; one of my rituals remained in tact – the collecting of the offering of doughnuts for the team. Keeping them sweet in my favour, so to speak.

Being human, blending in, it's all basic survival instincts. Kill or be killed, as the saying goes.

My Dark Passenger purred appreciatively at that.

Parking my car, I climbed out and entered Sadie's Donuts & Coffee shop, the best doughnut shop in Miami. I was greeted with a smile from my favourite employee.

“Morning, Dexter,” Francisco said as he walked up to the counter. “The usual?”

“That'd be great, thanks.” I said. In the animal kingdom, baring your teeth at another is considered aggressive, yet humans call it 'smiling' and consider it 'friendly' behaviour.

“I'll have them to you in a minute.” And then he wandered off, to get a box for the doughnuts I hoped.

It wasn't long before I was trading Francisco the box full of doughnuts for a $10 bill, I also got a coffee to sate my own needs and left a generous tip.

“See you next week.” I bid farewell and turned to leave, pushing the door as someone else pulled it. Standing in my way was a man and woman, both in shorts and both wearing sunglasses – tourists.

“After you.” The woman, with a distinctly British accent and a smile, offered as she stepped back and took off her sunglasses; revealing a pair of vibrant Royal blue eyes.

“Thanks.” As I walked past her, the Dark Passenger shivered and shrank away, hiding in the safety of the darkness.

“No problem.” Her smile transformed into a smirk, as if she'd seen the Passenger's reaction.

Reaching my car at last, I slid behind the wheel and set the box of doughnuts beside me on the passenger's seat, placing my coffee in the cup holder beneath the radio. I looked up in time to see the door to Sadie's close behind the man, who followed the woman closely – a couple perhaps? Best friends? They were definitely very close.

The Miami Metro Police Department was ten minutes away from Sadie's, but with the morning work and school run rush-hour I ended up in, it turned into a twenty minute journey.

My car eventually occupied its usual parking space and I climbed out, slinging my bag over my shoulder before grabbing the doughnuts and my coffee and entering the MMPD. The elevator up gave me a short moment to think about my encounter with the fair-skinned Brit and her companion; for the Passenger to have reacted in such a way, she had to have her own Dark Passenger, she had to be like me.

The metal doors dinged and my moment of reflection was over, time to put on a show. As I stepped out, my mask was put on – Delightful Dexter who brought the doughnuts.

It didn't take long for the doughnut box to be spotted and pounced at like a life-line, every one taken with a smile and a thanks.

I made it safely to my little office and fell into the chair behind my computer, dropping my bag and sliding it beneath the desk. Before I could relax and drink my now lukewarm coffee in peace, Debra decided to round us up in the board room.

“Okay,” Debra started once we were settled, she stood in front of one of the two large white boards on wheels – the pictures of the five victims so far and all the information we had so far spread over the two boards. “Since we seem to be getting nowhere on the 'Mauling Murders',” - not the best dubbing the tabloids could have come up with, in my opinion - “LeGuerta decided to bring two of the detectives originally on the case over from the UK to help us out.”

“Why?” Batista, Sergeant Angel-no-Relation, queried. “With all due respect, I'm sure they're good cops – but we don't need them.”

“Turns out this twisted mother fucker started in Britain, they're sending over the two responsible for catching him in the first place,” Debs scoffed. She would start insulting them any minute now. “I mean, what the hell is she thinking? Bringing in a pair of tea-drinking pansy fucks!”

There we go.

“Don't be alarmed, the tea-drinking pansy fucks have arrived,” A woman announced, walking past me and over to Debra. It was her, the woman from this morning, her partner at her heels. “Detective Morgan, I assume?”

“Yeah, that's me.” Debra shook hands with the two, actually looking a little embarrassed at being caught insulting them.

“I'm Detective Chief Inspector Sydney Holmes, this is my partner, Detective Sergeant Matthew White,” He waved as she named him. “Your lieutenant phoned our superior requesting assistance, and here we are.”

For someone being insulted by a stranger, the Detective Chief Inspector seemed indifferent. I would need to corner her later; we needed to talk.

“To get everyone up to date, we brought over all the files from the original case with us.” Detective Sergeant White finally spoke, he wasn't actually British – Australian surprisingly.

Even though they were both wearing shorts, hers were blue and white and just reached her knees while his were green and yellow and more like three-quarter lengths. While Holmes wore a pair of black Converse, White was wearing grey open-toed sandals.

“The guy we're looking for is Gregory Ironside, originally from London, moved to Sheffield in his late teens. We found him over in Ireland after his last victim in Britain and brought him back over to London,” Holmes informed us, finally a name to put to the murderer. “It was an inside job, we had no idea.”

“Hopefully we'll catch this fucker before he snacks on anyone else.” Debra said, talking to all of us.

“It's very unlikely that we will-” White had started, stopping abruptly after a sharp look from Holmes. “Er... We'll catch him soon, we know how he thinks.”

So Holmes was clearly the more dominant of the two, and it seemed more than just her being a higher ranking officer. Further research would need to be done on the two liaison officers.

“Great. Well, if that's everything, Detective Morgan?” Holmes questioned and Debra nodded. “Brilliant, I'm dying for a brew.”

The Dark Passenger shivered again as she past me, this time more in familiar acknowledgement, and for a brief moment her own Passenger seemed to do the same. I felt the Dark Passenger bristle slightly as her partner past, he had a Passenger of his own. Not as strong as the one Holmes was hosting, but still there. Both having shady Back Seat Drivers and being partners couldn't have been a coincidence.

Debra gave us the 'fuck off' gesture after a few moments and well all dispersed, scattering away like rodents. I returned to my little den so as to finish my coffee in peace, but Vince Masuka ruined the peace before it had a chance to grow.

“What do you think of that DCI chick?” Vince grinned pervertedly. “Hot, right? Think my chances of getting with her are high?”

Without even thinking, my brain immediately answered with 'They're actually slim to none, so back off a little' – but because I didn't understand why my brain had suddenly thought this answer, I didn't say it.

For some reason, the Dark Passenger had approved of the thought with a satisfied purr, only to curl in on himself to sulk in the corner when I'd decided against saying it out loud. Interesting.

“I wouldn't hold your breath.” I joked with a smile instead, then he left me alone.

Swirling in my chair as I sipped my nearly cold coffee, I looked out onto the main floor, spotting DCI Holmes and DS White chatting before White pulled out his cell phone and walked off to make a call. Holmes watched him go before turning and heading in the direction of the kitchen; now was my chance.

Cold coffee was far from appetising, one last sip was all I could take before dumping the remaining content of the cup into the small bin in the corner and following Holmes to the kitchen. I quietly watched her fill and flick on the unused kettle that usually just sat in the corner, grab three mugs and drop a tea bag from a jar she must have found in one of the cupboards into one of them.

“DCI Holmes?” I cleared my throat softly.

“Sydney, please,” She insisted as she turned round with a smile, holding a hand out to me. “Is there something else I can call you besides doughnut-guy?”

“Dexter Morgan.” I shook her hand, the palm of which was much softer than I expected.

“Dexter. Cool name,” She smiled genuinely, letting go first. “I wouldn't have guessed you worked for Miami Metro.”

“I didn't think you were a police officer either.” I was getting nowhere with our small-talk, but I had to figure out a way to ask her what I wanted to know without alarming her, and fast.

“What do you want to ask me?” She queered with a raised eyebrow before the question had even had time to form in my brain.

I could either answer the question, or ask my own. There was no right way to ask 'So, are you a monster like me?', I was treading on dangerous waters. First things first, I had to be sure she actually had a Dark Passenger.

“Do me and you have anything in common?” It was the safest question I managed to pluck from my over-worked mind.

“Do we?” Sydney smiled wolfishly; and for a brief second, so fast that at first I thought I'd imagined it, her eyes flashed a ghostly silver before returning to their normal vibrant blue.

In my mind's eye, I could see her Dark Passenger stand tall behind her, proudly behind her. The Dark Passenger stood to meet hers, and for a change, my Passenger was not the stronger of the two. An understanding seemed to pass between me and Detective Chief Inspector Holmes, mutual understanding that we didn't need to try and voice with words.

“Yes,” I answered, and smiled. Was this finally someone who could understand me? She may have known what I was, but she certainly didn't know what I did. “I think we do.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” She promised, then turned after the kettle had clicked to pour the scalding water into the mug with the tea bag in it. She slid the two empty mugs over the counter top towards me as she set the kettle back in its place, finding a small spoon and lifting a container of milk from the fridge. “I can tell you're more of a coffee guy, so's Matt. Do you mind pouring two out?”

I complied to her request without much hesitation, filling the two mugs with black coffee.

“Lugosi wants to come with us tomorrow,” White announced as he walked into the break area, ignoring me and going straight over to Sydney. “Do you think she'll be allowed up?”

“Matt, don't be rude.” She rebuked her partner, and I caught her gesture towards me out of the corner of my eye.

“Sid, I don't care about random Miami Metro workers.” He replied curtly.

I turned to face White, sliding the coffee I'd been asked to pour towards him. He faced me and, to his displeasure, I was a few inches taller.

“Dexter Morgan.” I smiled, the Dark Passenger however was less than friendly and growled at the Detective Sergeant's closeness.

White had a Passenger of his own, well... His Passenger was more like a shadow – either way, it cowered in submission into an unused part of his little mind.

“What...” White stepped back, then continued backwards until he'd safely placed himself behind Sydney.

I don't usually intimidate people, I never needed to; friendly Dependable Dexter. No effort had been needed to practically transform the confident Australian into a cowering dog hiding behind his superior. There was another thing; White fled to Sydney for protection, not just to create space between us.

“Dexter,” I immediately turned my sights on her, raising an eyebrow at her amused smile. “I'd appreciate it if you didn't frighten my partner, I need him.”

“I apologise then, I didn't mean to.” And it was true, it hadn't been me.

“You might not have, but your Wolf did,” She commented, stirring her tea before leaving with a friendly smile. “Nice meeting you.”

“Likewise.” I called after her, watching White scurry out of the kitchen.

Wolf? What did she mean by Wolf? Was that what she called her Dark Passenger?

I grabbed my cup of coffee and returned to my little office, Dexter's Domain. All thoughts of the DCI and her partner were pushed aside as I fired up my computer and sipped at my mug while I waited for the monitor to load, it was time to do some research on my next kill.

Gregory Ironside wasn't mine to catch, he was Sydney's (and White's), and I would respect that.

With the ferocity of the Mauling Murders all over the news, the MMPD had overlooked the death of Vincent Cape, a tourist who'd been on holiday with his friends.

The coroner's report on Cape narrowed the cause of death down to asphyxiation, not the shallow incision down his ribcage or the alarmingly high level of Cocaine in his blood-stream.

There was something familiar about that CoD, it was like deja vu, but I couldn't remember where I'd read it before.

'Garfield' The name was purred, and then from the archives of my large brain came forth the information I'd read.

Charles Garfield, an Orlando native, had been put on trail for the deaths of three tourists in 2005, but due to the lack of physical evidence was never convicted. The ME's reports from the first three victims were identical to Cape, right down to the slices of the left sides of their rib cages, and the high levels of Cocaine in their blood. Garfield had been dormant for a few years now, something must have triggered him.

I couldn't lay a finger on him until Harry's Code was satisfied though, that was the first task.

The rest of the morning was dull, and I had an unsatisfying lunch for a change, followed by a stack of blood results that needed checked – which kept me busy until 18.31, by which time I was finished and more than ready for get home.

Debra was still at her desk when I was on my way out, and so I bid her good night before stepping into the elevator.

On the ride down I found my thoughts wander to the interesting Detective Chief Inspector and her unusual partner. I didn't normally come across others like me, or at least, others who didn't want to kill me.

I needed to get to know her better, if we were alike, then she would understand me better than anyone. I would be able to be myself with her-

I was getting ahead of myself.

The metal doors of the elevator crawled open and I walked out the front of Miami Metro to my car, sliding in and starting the engine.

Traffic was light, so I was at my apartment in less than twenty minutes. I grabbed my keys and bag after I parked the car before heading up to my side of the apartment.

A few months after Harrison's first birthday, I bought the apartment next to mine. I needed my own space and Harrison would want his own space as he got older.

I entered my side of the apartment first, dropping off my bag and changing into some lounging clothes before lifting a beer and moving into the other side of the apartment.

As I uncapped the beer and took a swig, Jamie swanned into the living room and spotted me.

“Dexter.” She greeted me with a bright smile, picking up toys as she made her way over to me.

“Hey, Jamie.” I needed help with Harrison while I was at work, is was where Jamie came in. She was Angel Batista's younger sister, and so far an excellent babysitter. “How were things?”

“They were great, Harrison's an angel,” She smiled happily. “I fed him and put him down for the night, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind seeing his daddy.”

“That's it for tonight,” I replied. “You can go on home now.”

“Thanks again. See you tomorrow.” A swift wave and she was gone.

Harrison was my next thought, so leaving the beer in the kitchen, I went to check on him. He was sound asleep, not a care in the world. I stepped out and quietly shut the door, making my way back to the kitchen to finish the remainder of the beer.

With no work to do and fatigue setting in, I decided an early night would be the best thing to do. I would need all my wits about me to handle working with the detectives from across the pond.

Before retreating to my room, I had a look in the fridge to see if there was anything easy to eat, preferably something I didn't have to reheat. The remaining half of a ham and cheese sandwich lay forgotten on a green plate on the middle shelf, next to a jar of mayonnaise and a container of lasagna from last Monday. The sandwich was the safest bet, so I lifted it out an munched on it as I moved to my room, careful not to leave a trail of breadcrumbs behind.

Hunger partially sated and thirst partially quenched, I crawled into bed at a few minutes to eight, pulling the covers tightly around me as I settled in to a good night's rest.

Sleep came easily and I was gone within seconds, and that's how I stayed, on the verge of REM sleep when I was startled awake by a noise from outside. A deep, wild noise not commonly heard in Miami. A noise that, even though I'd never heard before, couldn't have sounded more familiar.

The noise had been a Howl. A long, light howl that called to me, as if saying 'Hello in there!'. The Howl was joined by a second one, but the first Howl continued to be the more dominant one – it reminded me of Sydney and White.

Wolves were not common wildlife in Miami, so why was I hearing a pack of two wolves baying to a moonless starry sky?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a little bit of French in this chapter, and I apologise to anyone who can speak/read/ the language, because I used a translator to get what I wanted. Correct me if it doesn't make sense, I'd love to fix it!

I made sure Harrison was up and dressed before Jamie showed, just setting him down to his breakfast when she opened the front door using the key I'd given her.

“I should be back around the same time as yesterday,” I informed Jamie as I ruffled Harrison's hair and gave him a peck on his forehead for good measure. “See you later, buddy.”

“Have a good day at work.” Jamie smiled before greeting Harrison.

I sat behind my desk in next to no time, computer fired up with a fresh mug of coffee in tow.

Charles Garfield was laying low for the moment, but it was only a matter of time before he reared his head and struck again.

The Dark Passenger was sated for the meantime with the mystery of Detective Chief Inspector Sydney Holmes and her Wolf, which was comforting and worrying at the same time.

Sydney and White, along with another woman, wandered into Miami Metro a few minutes after nine. A refill of coffee was my excuse to leave my desk, taking my time crossing he floor to the kitchen.

“Je suis content quils me laisser en place,” The woman with Sydney and White sighed in relief with a smile. I didn't have a clue what she'd said, all I could tell was that it'd been said in French. Debra was going to love her. “Maintenant quoi?”

“Now you get to meet the detectives on the case,” Sydney answered her. So she could understand French, interesting. “Then we'll show you the recent victims.”

Half way to the kitchen was when the woman spotted me, by which stage it was too late to run back, “Bonjour il.”

“Dexter.” I looked over my shoulder to see a smiling Sydney heading my way, the Dark Passenger purred as she gently grabbed my free hand and led me over. The coffee could wait.

“Et qui est-ce?” The woman asked with a grin as we got closer, glancing at our joined hands before up at me. Sydney let go of my hand as we reached White and the stranger, the Passenger whined at the loss of heat on my palm.

“Dexter Morgan, Doctor Penelope Lugosi. Penelope, this is Dexter,” Sydney introduced his, and I shook her hand – it felt different to when Sydney had held it. “Il est l'un d'entre nous.”

“Il est un loup-garou? Vraiment?” Doctor Lugosi looked me up and down again. I got the feeling they were talking about me. “Il est mignon.”

They were definitely talking about me, Sydney's laughter had just clarified my theory.

“Now don't start that.” Sydney replied despite laughing.

Doctor Lugosi looked between us before her eyes landed on Sydney, “Oh, je vois.”

Whatever the good doctor had said stopped the laughing, turning Sydney's cheeks a rather delicate shade of pink.

“We better go see Lieutenant LeGuerta,” She suggests, leading the way. She looks back at me with a smile. “See you later, Dexter.”

I waved to her and before I could get my coffee, Debra catches me.

“Did you hear about last night?” She questioned me, a wide grin on her face – one of those grins that tells me she's trying not to laugh.

“What happened last night?” Nothing had happened last night, at least nothing I was aware of anyway.

Wait, there had been the howling-

“People were phoning animal control all night, said they heard wolves howling or something,” Debra grinned even wider, if that were possible. “Wolves, Dexter, fucking wolves.” - and then she started laughing, unable to hold it in any longer.

“Wolves? In Miami?” I blew it off, playing along and giving her exactly what she wanted to hear. “Is there any proof?”

“It was probably just some stray dogs or something,” She smirked. “Bat-shit crazy people. Wild wolves...” - she wandered off to laugh about it with someone else.

I quickly grabbed another coffee and retreated to my desk before anyone else decided they wanted me. A little research was needed.

Doctor Lugosi had mentioned something about a... Loup-garou? I wasn't entirely sure what that was, bit I was pretty sure she had been referring to me.

Trusty Google helped me out with my loup-garou problem, and the results hadn't been what I was expecting.

Loup-garou was French for Werewolf. A loup-garou was a creature that transformed under a full moon into a wolf and swallowed the hearts of their human kills, and Doctor Lugosi had referred to me as a loup-garou? She thought I was a Werewolf? She thought Dear Darling Dexter was a monster?

Well... She wasn't _too_  far off, actually.

I reflexively closed the browser as my door was rapped, Debra stepped in seconds later sullen faced.

“They found another body on the beach, it's mauled real bad apparently,” She informed me. “Let's go, there's a lot of blood.”

Debra hadn't been kidding about the blood, because there was red everywhere. She gave me a ride to the crime scene, walking towards the cordoned off area and spotting the body... Or what was left of the body. Masuka and Angel had gotten there before us and started already, Quinn wasn't far behind.

“There's not much left to work with,” Vince informed me as I approached him, he was writing in a notebook. “The head's intact, so are both arms, most of the internal organs are missing and the legs aren't looking to good either.”

The body was a man, maybe five and a half feet tall, dark haired and tan skinned. His suit, or what was left of it, had been a tailored dark grey pinstriped number. Jacket was destroyed, shirt was destroyed, trousers were destroyed, and he only had one shoe on.

“Who is he?” I asked.

“Max Coffee.” Vince replied, continuing to scribble away in his notebook. “Businessman from Boston, Massachusetts.”

“What did he do?” It didn't matter what he did, the murders were apparently random and the people just very unfortunate.

“He was an executive at a small company,” He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “Does it matter?”

“No, just curious.” I answered with a shrug, getting my camera ready to start taking photos.

It wouldn't be easy finding out what actually killed him; massive blood-loss, the trauma, or something else?

Around the body were craters in the sand, hand-print sized craters, paw-print sized craters?

As I started taking photographs, Sydney pulled up next to Debra's car with White and they both climbed out. Sydney was the first of the pair to make her way down the beach towards the scene, White was hesitant after spotting me, I couldn't stop the satisfied grin from appearing on my face.

“What've we got?” Sydney asked as she came to the body. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Vince go to answer her.

“Male, mid thirties, businessman from Boston,” I said before he could get the chance, the Dark Passenger chuckled contently at the look that washed over his face. “He must have taken a midnight stroll, was caught off guard, dead before he hit the sand. His name is Max Coffee.”

“You're the blood-spatter expert, right?” Sydney asked with a small smile and a raised eyebrow after a moment, White was keeping his distance, much to my (and the Dark Passenger's) amusement.

“I like to think I'm the best.” Was my modest replied.

“Tell me a story then.” She smiled wider, indicating towards the blood. The Dark Passenger stood stall and puffed out his chest, ready to impress the Detective Chief Inspector and her Wolf.

“He was killed here, going by the amount of blood. The distance some drops of blood reached tells us the ripping was done fast and violently. This was rushed and sloppy, the killer didn't know what he was doing,” I was lost in my analysis of the blood for a moment, people would say I was passionate about what I do. I just enjoyed it. “The intestines were removed and dragged away, there's a faint red trail leading up to the road there, where we should find more blood.”

“Matthew, go and see if he's right,” Sydney spoke to her partner before turning back to me, her arms folded across her chest and a playful smile on her face. “Is that everything?”

“All I've got for now.” I shrugged my shoulders with a playful smile of my own.

“He wasn't killed here,” She pointed out, stepping closer to the body. Her turn to impress. “Ironside had been here, but he wasn't the killer, just a scavanger left to clean  up - well... Clean up is a loose term.”

I watched her inspect the body after pulling on a pair of white latex gloves and rolling up the sleeves of her dark grey shirt; she moved the head from side-to-side, checked his arms, poked about his torn out torso, examined his legs. She stood and pulled off the gloves after a few careful minutes, rolling them into a ball and holding them in her hand.

 

Matthew came jogging back down the beach towards us, a frown on his face, “He's right, there's blood up on the road there.”

Of course I was right, it had been a clear trail of blood leading up to the road.

“A scavenger?” I questioned, which was what I'd been about to ask before White had returned. He'd been a hunter so far, what had changed?

“Mr Coffee died of asphyxiation, not blood-loss,” She began, and I could here Vince scribbling in his little book furiously, hanging on to her every word. “His lips and skin have a blue tinge to them, also note the light bruising around his nose and mouth – Coffee was burked. His body was dumped here during the early hours of the morning, I'd guess between eleven yesterday night and two this morning.”

Asphyxiation, did that mean Coffee could have been a victim of Charles Garfield? Were Garfield and Ironside working together? Or had this been a brief encounter?

“But why suffocate him, then tear him to shreds?” Vince asked, stepping a little closer.

“Coffee was the victim of two different people,” She explained for him, I had already figured out there were two separate killers, I smiled smugly at Vince – who was still focused on Sydney. “Ironside kills his victims by going for their throats, Coffee's throat is untouched - besides the strangulation bruising, of course. Also, notice the sand under the body, no blood. He'd been dead for hours before Ironside stumbled upon his body.”

It all seemed a little obvious when she put it like that.

“Are they working together now?” The question was out before I could stop it.

“Ironside is a solitary killer, I have a feeling this was little more than a fluke.” She did know Ironside better than I did, but I knew Garfield a little better than she did.

Garfield might make an intelligent an alliance with another killer, especially one so aggressive as Ironside, if his work would be covered up by someone else's.

The DCI was better than I thought she'd be, I could see now how she'd gotten her rank in the British police. She had definitely earned it.

“Wow.” Vince breathed once Sydney and White had left us to join Debra, Angel and Quinn. “She is so totally hot.”

The Dark Passenger snarled in outrage, the noise vibrated through my skull. A tingling sensation ran down my spine as the Passenger set his sights on Vince, I didn't understand why the Passenger was acting so strangely as of late.

“She's doing what she gets paid to do.” I said as I turned off my camera and replaced the lens cap. My brain had given me another confusing reply, and again because I didn't understand why it had been thought, I never said it - which again caused the Dark Passenger to curl up and sulk.

' _Mate._ ' The Dark Passenger whispered softly after a moment. ' _Perfect._ '

Mate? Where had that come from? What was it suppose to mean?

'Mate?' I enquired, it was an unusual and ambiguous word to use, even for the Passenger. 'Who?'

' _Sydney._ ' He purred her name delicately into my ear. He wanted me and Sydney to be friends?

"Dexter?" I had been so lost in my mental conversation that I hadn't notice Sydney walk back over.

"Yes?" I asked, the Passenger was fighting me, reaching out to Sydney's own darkness. Did he want companionship with an equal? More?

"I hope you don't mind," She started, and the Passenger calmed at her voice. "But Debra asked me to give you a lift back."

We hadn't even know each other two days, and yet the Passenger wanted her. He wasn't the only one of course, I would be lying to myself if I said I wasn't interested as well.

"No, that's fine." I nodded, maybe a little too enthusiastically, at her.

“Great. Well, here, take the keys and get in,” She pulled a pair of car keys out of her pocket and flung them at me, which I caught easily. She walked back towards Debra and the others. “Take Matthew with you.”

At the mention of his name, White had looked over, his eyes widened and he gulped as after catching sight of me.

“What about me?” White asked, having not heard.

“Go sit in the car with Dexter.” She replied as she walked past him.

He laughed dryly, “Good one, very funny. I'm okay waiting for you to-”

“Go sit in the car.” Sydney repeated, a strange edge to her voice. Even from the distance she was, I caught her eyes quickly flash silver.

White didn't question her the second time and so followed me to the car, I unlocked it and (just to antagonise the Detective Sergeant) dropped into the passenger's side, leaving him no choice but to take a seat in the back.

We sat in silence, one I was quite happy to sit in but was making White uncomfortable, if the amount of fidgeting he was doing was anything to go on. Eventually he started cracking his knuckles, slowly making sure to pop every little individual joint in each of his hands. If I had been the squeamish type, which would have been unfortunate in my line of work, I'd be the one fidgeting now.

I watched out the window contently at my sister and Angel as they talked to Sydney, Quinn didn't seem very involved with the conversation as he stood beside Debra. It didn't last long and they soon went their separate ways, Debra and Quinn back over to the crime scene while Angel stayed where he was and made a call, Sydney was striding purposefully to the car.

“Right, back to Miami Metro.” Sydney said as she opened the driver's side door and slid in behind the wheel, slamming the door shut and starting the engine.

The first five or so minutes of the driver were quiet, I had the feeling that White wouldn't say anything until Sydney started talking. But since she didn't appear to be interested in talking, and because there were a few questions zooming around in my head that I wanted answered, I started.

“Why did Doctor Lugosi call me a werewolf?” I asked Sydney.

“Because you are a werewolf.” She replied with a grin, her left eyebrow raised in what I assume was amusement.

A werewolf? I'd like to think I'd know if I was werewolf. So because I was clearly not a werewolf, my opinion of Sydney slightly lowered. The Dark Passenger however seemed to be just as, if not more, eager to get to know her better.

The Dark Passenger was something to think about, he had been with me for as long as I could remember. Was he the same as her Wolf? Was that why she called her Darkness the Wolf? If what she was saying was true, my Dark Passenger and her Wolf were no different.

“You don't really expect me to believe I'm a werewolf, right?” I finally wondered aloud after a lapse of silence. “I'd know if I was a werewolf.”

“If Ironside hadn't shown up here, you probably would have never known,” She replied as she slowed down to a stop at a red light, she looked at me with her vibrant blue eyes and the Dark Passenger quivered. “Non-Metamorph Lycans rarely do.”

“Sorry, what?” I was no closer to being a werewolf than Debra was to finding out about my nightly activities.

“Werewolves who can't transform, either because they chose not to go through the Lunar Kardia Ritual, or they weren't aware of it and don't know what they are,” She explained. “Like you, I suppose.”

The light turned green and she focused back on the road.

“So, what you're trying to tell me is that I am a werewolf, I just can't transform into a werewolf?” It didn't make a lot of sense, and I still wasn't any closer to believing her as she nodded her head. “Is it the same for other werewolves?”

“Only born lycathropes need to go through the Ritual. Bitten lycans will know the difference at their first full moon.”

“So the whole thing about the full moon is real then?” I wasn't sure if I was trying to humour her, or if I was genuinely curious.

“It's a bitten lycan thing, the slight magnetic pull from the moon causes a chemical reaction in the body of a Mutt and triggers the need to transform. The moon holds no power over born lycans at all.” She explained to me, and I was slowly beginning to consider this werewolf thing not being as mad as I'd first thought. It was certainly different from the usual werewolf story, which didn't involve many people being born as such a creature.

“Okay...” It wasn't exactly a normal conversation, but I was getting curiouser and curiouser about the werewolf thing.

“Listen, I know how crazy it sounds, I don't expect you to believe me straight off the bat. If I was you and someone told me I was a werewolf, I'd question how sober they are and tell them to piss off,” Sydney spoke honestly as she turned and pulled into a spare parking space outside of the police department, I had a feeling there was more so I didn't get out just yet. “We can prove it to you tomorrow night, if you're not busy.”

I could always kill Garfield the night after, “I'm not going to get drugged, am I?”

“Where would be the fun in that?” She grinned again and got out of the car, White quickly after her and me not far behind.

Finally back behind my desk, I sat with a sigh and tried to decide whether or not Sydney had been kidding about the werewolf thing. Surely if there were werewolves out there we'd know about them, you can't exactly keep monstrous creatures off the news these days, someone was bound to have a video on their phone.

White had immediately loosened up after I'd left him and Sydney, they'd went to see Doctor Lugosi while I returned to my little office.

If she hadn't been serious, why would she have invited me tomorrow night to see them 'transform' into giant wolves? There was a small part of me, a separate part from the Dark Passenger, that wanted to believe her – just so I could finally fit in amongst similar people.

I checked the news to see that the reporters had quickly catalogued the incident as just another 'Mauling Murder' scene, the bloodied area stayed cordoned off even after the body had carefully been removed in case there was still evidence there.

Time ticked away, and having done all my work the day before, I only had one or two new cases to look over. I was left with a dull feeling that not even a strong cup of coffee could get rid of, I was bored.

Debra and Quinn swanned in at two-twenty, taking their respected seats at their desks and going straight onto their computers. I had been sitting behind my computer with a sandwich and a coffee when I spotted them.

At around three-forty-five the blood results from Max Coffee were dropped into me, and I finally had my reason to smile. Garfield would be mine very soon, he had been active very recently.

Maxwell Robin Coffee had died from asphyxiation, but before he had suffocated had inhaled an overdose-worthy amount of cocaine, his tox screen had shown an alarmingly high amount of the drug in his system.

Sydney, White and Doctor Lugosi left at around five, giving me a brief wave before they disappeared.

It was an hour and a half after our guests from across the pond had left that Debra and Quinn also vanished for the night, probably for steaks and beer.

I'd lost track of Masuka and Angel along the way, I had no idea where either of them were. Well, I had a fair idea where Masuka was, hanging in a strip club probably. Angel could have been visiting his daughter, or had fallen asleep somewhere.

Nothing left to do, I packed up and left for home. I was through the front door of my side of the apartment by seven, changed by a quarter past and letting Jamie go five minutes later. But unlike the night before, I was the one to put Harrison to bed.

I read him a Dr. Seuss book after I had him settled beneath his sheets, the one titled Green Eggs And Ham.

“I _do_ so like green eggs and ham!” I altered my voice slightly as I got to the last page of the book. “Thank you! Thank you, Sam-I-am.”

My effort was lost as I found Harrison fast asleep. I got up and fixed his sheets, returning the book to where I'd lifted it from before quietly making my way out of the room and closing the door soundlessly.

Lack of activity had left me feeling sluggish, so I gulped a pint of water before collapsing into my bed. I just had time to pull the covers over me before I was out of it.  
Just like the night before, I was awakened by howling. There were only two separate howls this time, and they sounded much closer than before. Was it Sydney and White? Were they reminding me of what I'd been told? Warning me? Or protecting me?

I settled back into my sheets and, after some wriggling about, fell asleep to the howling duet outside.


End file.
